The Right Kind of Wrong
by TwiAddictAnne
Summary: I knew what was right, and he wasn't it. But then again, maybe the right thing wasn't always the good thing. How would you know if the wrong thing was exactly right for you? All human. Canon Pairings. Rated for language and adult situations.


**Disclaimer: Any and all publicly recognizable characters do not belong to me ... except for the beta and the banner artist ... they're all mine. :D**

 **A/N: Hey you guys! This was my contribution to the Fandom 4 Autism cause. I had fun writing this one. An extra squishy hug (accompanied by smooches, of course) goes to my Granma, DataByteDL-FangirlinGranma (FangirlinGranma Dee), for being there for my whiny ass and doing the amazing beta reading on this. Love you, Granma.**

 **The banner for this fic was made by my official banner maker, IpsitaC77. Apu, you** **'** **re awesome. :***

 **Happy reading, everyone!**

 ** _The Right Kind of Wrong_**

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 **BPOV**

Sitting on the porch swing, I roll the shiny gold ring between my fingers, seeing the way the sunlight gets reflected by the giant stone sitting in the middle of it. It's a beautiful ring, but it's also not _me_.

"Having second thoughts?" His voice breaks through my thoughts, and I feel my back stiffen.

"No."

He arches an eyebrow at me and asks, "No, you're not having second thoughts, or no, you don't want this?"

I grit my teeth and reply, "No, I'm not having second thoughts. I want this. He's right for me."

The corners of his eyes tighten for just a moment before he shrugs. "Right doesn't always mean good."

I scowled, not wanting to let my heart agree with him. "Well, what's good for me is strictly my business."

"And what business is that?" His voice turns taunting.

"Not your business," I snap at him and then sigh. "What do you want, Edward?"

He leans his back on the door, crossing his ankles as he smirks at me. "I'm just looking for the blushing bride-to-be. Have you seen her by the way?" He squints and pretends to look around.

I feel heat rise to my cheeks as anger surges through me. "Fuck you, Cullen!"

"You wish, Swan," he says before walking back inside the house, leaving me feeling worse than before.

 _Typical Edward Cullen behavior._

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 **~*~*~*The Right Kind of Wrong*~*~*~**

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Once the house clears of party guests, aside from a few stragglers, I take the ring off and leave it in my bedroom before walking back down to the kitchen.

Just as I put my hands in the soapy water to wash the plates, Alice and Rose sidle up to my side. "So ... cool party," Alice says, bumping my shoulder with hers.

"Could've been a little more upbeat," Rose starts, but after receiving a furious glare from Alice, she backtracks. "It was a good party, Bell ... except for the old-guy music and ..." I suspect Alice throws her one more glare because she suddenly stutters before she stops talking altogether.

I sigh and turn to look at Alice. "Alice, you don't need to glare at Rose. I know the party sucked."

"Oh good! You thought so too?" Rose asks me, sounding a little relieved.

I roll my eyes at her. "Rose, _everyone_ thought so. You know how Jake gets at a party. Hell you won't get him out of the house even if you chase him with a crowbar. But even he looked glad to be leaving today."

When neither of my best friends say anything, I add, "I'm sorry you guys got so bored today. Michael is just ..." I stop, not sure how to finish that thought.

"Boring? Old-fashioned?" Rose offers helpfully, making a small smile stretch on my lips.

Shaking my head, I say, "He just has a definite idea about the right way to throw a party, you know?"

Rose lets out a snort. "Yeah, the right way in the 1930's, maybe!"

I feel a kick on my leg and let out a yelp. "Ouch!"

Alice's eyes widened. "Shit! Bell, I'm sorry ..." Her apology is cut short by Rose's snicker.

I glower at the pair of them and say angrily, "Cut it out, you two. Rose, I'm getting married to Michael even if he is a tad bit old-fashioned. And Alice, you tell that dumbass brother of yours that I like my ring."

Alice frowns. "Edward? What has he done now?"

"Nothing. Just tell him that, will you?"

Rose grabs my hand from where it was scrubbing away at a plate with vengeance and holds it up in front of my face. "If you like your ring so much, why aren't you wearing it?"

"I-I didn't want to risk losing it," I respond quickly before picking the plate back up and starting to scrub with renewed vigor.

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 **~*~*~*The Right Kind of Wrong*~*~*~**

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"Fucking asshole!" I curse the cynical jerk as I toss and turn on my bed for the umpteenth time, unable to sleep. Every time I close my eyes, his face is there with his stupid voice echoing through my mind.

 _Right doesn_ _'_ _t always mean good._

 _Right doesn_ _'_ _t always mean good._

 _Right doesn_ _'_ _t always mean good._

I let out a groan of frustration and sit up, finally accepting defeat for the night. I reach for my phone, but then stop. I can't call Michael. It's after midnight, and he has work tomorrow. He doesn't like it when I call him after ten p.m. He says it disrupts his schedule for the next day.

For a moment, I consider getting out of bed and waking up my roommate, Rose. But the thought of seeing Emmett's naked butt again peeking from underneath her blanket, puts me off.

Instead of picking up my phone, I reach for the photo album I keep at hand. It never failed to make me smile.

The cover alone makes me relax. It was a picture of our high school days, taken by one of those one-time cameras Jasper stole from Jessica's stash. In the picture, Alice, Rosalie and I were giving matching toothy grins at the camera—the buzz from our first time pot-smoking clearly visible in our grins.

As I flip through the pictures, I feel myself getting lost in the days filled with happiness, friendship and laughter.

Then, a picture catches my eyes.

It's a picture of a little boy kissing the side of my head. It was an old photo, probably taken when I was about four or five years old, but even with the slightly yellowed edges, it makes my heart skip a beat. Why? Because the little boy, kissing me so lovingly, was none other than my arch enemy, Edward Cullen.

The picture gets me thinking back in time ... the time when Edward used to be my best friend. He was the first boy I had met when we moved to Forks, Washington, from Arizona. He was also the only friend I had until he had introduced me to his twin sister, Alice.

I remember the time when I couldn't go through a full day without seeing Edward. I was so sure he was going to be my first everything as we were about to enter our teen years. And then, it all changed ... on his fourteenth birthday.

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 ** _Flashback_**

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"Hey, Alice, have you seen Edward?"

Alice huffs at my question and places a hand on her hip to show me her displeasure. "Really? I thought I'm your best friend too, Bella. A hello or 'happy birthday, Alice' would've been nice, you know?"

I grin at her and pull her into a hug. "Happy birthday, Alice," I say sweetly. "Now where's your brother? I want to wish him happy birthday too."

She rolls her eyes at me and waves a hand toward the stairs leading up to Edward's bedroom. "He's been holed up in his room for the last hour. Go ahead, I'll go hunt down Jasper."

We share a wink and both go our different ways. She went to find Jasper and ask him for a kiss. And I went to find Edward and maybe, just maybe, give him my first kiss as his birthday gift.

A small giggle escapes me as I make my way to his room. However, when I reach the closed door, I feel all traces of a smile drain away from me. I hear the sound of his groan followed by a girly giggle coming from inside. I feel like my heart has been shattered into a million pieces.

Without knocking on the door, I walk away, only to find a very eager Tyler Crowley blocking my way. "Bella, you look gorgeous," he says with a dopey smile on his face.

I don't think before I grab his shirt collar in both of my hands and smash my lips to his. The feel of his chapped lips disgusts me, and I pull away.

Tyler gives me a shit-eating grin and lets out a hoot.

 _Oh no!_

I quickly pull him back for another kiss, in hopes of muffling his hooting. Before our lips can touch, he's shoved away from me, and I find myself looking into the eyes of my very angry best friend.

"Bella? What's this?" Edward asks me with a snarl.

I raise my eyebrow and purse my lips. "What does it look like?" When he doesn't say anything, I look behind him and see a ruffled-looking Tanya Denali peeking from behind him. That is all I need to push me off the edge. "You just interrupted my first kiss," I hiss at him.

Shock, disbelief and resignation flits through his face before a mask of indifference comes on. He nods slowly and gestures toward Tyler with his hand. "I didn't know you were the slutty kind. Carry on," he says before stepping away from me and taking Tanya's hand in his.

I watch in utter shock as he walks away from me, leaving our friendship behind as collateral damage.

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 ** _End of Flashback_**

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I close the album with a snap and drop it on the vanity beside my bed. It still feels too much. It still hurts too much.

 _This is why Michael is right for you_ , I remind myself. _So what if he tells you not to call him just because you feel like it? So what if you don_ _'_ _t feel that spark between the two of you? So what if your friends find him boring? He_ _'_ _s dependable. He loves you and most importantly, he doesn_ _'_ _t make you cry._

Yes, Michael was the right guy.

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 **EPOV**

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I stand leaning against the bar as my eyes seek her out. No matter how crowded a place is, my eyes always look for her. She's there—across the clubroom—dancing like there's no tomorrow with Alice and Rosalie flanking her.

"You know that girls run away from creepy stalker dudes, right?" I hear Emmett yell in my ear.

"Fuck off, Em," I respond. "I'm not stalking anyone."

"Riiiight," Jasper, my brother-in-law, pipes up from next to me. "Edward, if you don't man up and talk to her, you're stalking her."

I frown at the two of them. "What is this, 'Pick-on-Edward Day'? Besides, I talk to her all the damn time."

"Nope," Emmett corrects me. "You exchange insults in passing with each other. That's not talking."

Jasper nods in agreement. "Definitely not talking. I still don't get why you two never got together, you know? I remember you two being thick as thieves as we were growing up."

My mind starts to wander off to the day I had lost my best friend, but I quickly shut that memory out. _No use going there anymore, Cullen._

Instead, I roll my eyes at my friends and pick up my beer bottle from the bar. "She's with Michael now. So it's a moot point anyway."

"Grow a fucking pair ..." Emmett starts, but his words are cut off by a loud giggle.

I turn my head to see the girls standing in front of us, and Bella grinning like a lunatic. "A pair?" she asks Emmett with a snort. "Cullen has too many pairs to count, don't you, Cullen? Each pair designated for one of his slut-club members."

Before I can make a brilliant comeback to her taunting, she has a handful of my shirt fisted in her hand. "What are you doing?" I ask in alarm.

She puts a finger on my lips and grins. "Come on, Cullen, dance with me. If you have a _pair_ that is ..."

That does the trick. Instantly, I find myself grasping her hand in mine and dragging her to the dance floor.

The goofy grin stays on her lips as she pushes her body into mine, making me feel her soft curves against my body. An involuntary groan escapes my lips, and then I don't care.

I don't care that she's engaged to another man. I don't care that we're supposed to hate each other. I don't care that she has been my enemy since we were fourteen. No, all I care about is her ... in my arms.

She smiles up at me and loops her arms around my neck before standing on her tiptoes and kissing the side of my neck. "Hmm ... you smell so good," she hums into my neck.

I move my hips with hers and place my hands on the small of her back, holding her to me. A smile tugs at my lips. "Yeah? Like what?"

Her answer is quick, as if she has thought of it often. "Budweiser, jeans and ... _Edward_."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "Jeans?" I ask incredulously.

She nods. "Uh-huh. I like jeans. Michael doesn't like my wearing them. He says I should be wearing pink and flowery dresses."

My hands on her tighten at the mention of the man who's going to steal her away in a week. "What do _you_ want?"

She lifts her face up to look at me and smiles again. "I want to wear jeans and ratty old T-shirts and sneakers. I want to ..." she trails off, her eyes focusing on my lips.

I realize that by this point neither of us is even attempting to dance as we stand in the middle of sweaty bodies surrounding us, looking at each other. "What do you want, Swan?" I whisper, placing a hand on her cheek.

She closes her eyes as she leans into my touch. "To kiss you," she whispers back and then pushes her face close to mine.

Holding my breath, I slowly start to lean down to meet her lips with mine. Our lips are only inches apart when her body goes slack in my arms, and I realize that she has passed out from the binge drinking for her bachelorette party.

Panicked, I look around for our friends, but they are nowhere in sight. _The assholes must have left us here alone. Shit!_

I quickly go through my options for taking her home and reach my decision. _Desperate times call for desperate measures._

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 **BPOV**

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"Fuck!" I curse as I raise my hands to my head, hoping to hold it closed so that it doesn't snap open from all the pounding going on in there.

The sound of a snicker coming from beside me is the first inkling for me that something isn't right. "Rise and shine, Princess."

 _Oh hell no!_ I realize in horror that something just isn't "not right." No, something is very, very wrong.

"What are you doing here?" I mumble into my pillow, not daring to open my eyes in hopes that he'll turn out to be a horrible hallucination.

A finger taps my forehead as he responds, "You don't remember much, do you? We had a crazy night."

" _We?_ " I ask in alarm and immediately regret speaking in a voice louder than a whisper.

"Uh-huh," his voice is cheery as fuck as he replies. "Your bachelorette night was the best night of your life, Swan."

My eyes snap open and I whip my head to look at him, not caring about the bright light that assaults my eyes instantly.

I hold a hand against my eyes to shield them from the light and focus on the man standing in front of me. A teasing smile plays on his lips as he saunters toward me … with nothing but a towel wrapped around him and water dripping down his chest.

"Fuck! Cullen, what are doing showering in my bathroom?" I ask him, looking at anywhere but his chest.

When he speaks, his voice is much closer than I anticipated it to be. "I showered in _my_ bathroom, Swan. Take a good look around, Princess. You spent the night in _my_ bed."

I gasp, looking down at my body and finding a T-shirt there instead of the dress I wore to the bar last night.

 _Shit! I had sex with Edward fucking Cullen!_ The thought runs through my head, and makes me feel sick that I cheated on Michael.

"Whoa! Hold the hyperventilation, Swan," Cullen speaks close to my ear while his hand rubs my back. "I said _you_ slept in my bed. I didn't say I was there with you."

That stops my panic attack, and I crack one eye open to look at him. "You mean we didn't …?"

He makes a 'pfft' noise and laughs. "Wow! You must think I'm lower than dirt on your shoes if you think I'd take advantage of your drunken spree."

I feel my cheeks heat up as he speaks. "No, I just meant that I'm wearing your T-shirt and …"

"And in true Swan fashion, you decided to jump to conclusions," he snaps at me, shutting me up.

My head swims and suddenly there is an unmistakable urge to throw up that twists my empty stomach.

Like a bolt of lightning, I'm out of bed and in the bathroom, hugging the toilet bowl like it was my new best friend and puking my guts out.

It's not until I see a glass of water in front of me that I realize Cullen's in the bathroom with me. He doesn't say anything to me while he hands me the water.

He holds my hair back while I wash my mouth and rubs my back in a soothing motion that seems so _not_ him.

 _What_ _'_ _s happening?_

When I'm done, he holds my hand and leads me out of the bathroom. He pushes me to take a seat on his bed before finally opening his mouth to speak. "You need to have food in you."

With that, he leaves the room, leaving me slack-jawed on his bed.

He returns with a tray laden with food and places it gently on my lap. I feel something strange happen to my heart when I see he has brought me my favorite cereal.

"You don't need to worry about last night. I didn't touch you apart from making you wear my shirt. The dress you had on looked really uncomfortable to be sleeping in," he says nonchalantly. Then with a nod at me, he leaves me to eat my breakfast.

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 **~*~*~*The Right Kind of Wrong*~*~*~**

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The drive back to my apartment is laden with silence with Cullen driving and me twisting my hands in my lap.

"You're gonna break your fingers if you keep doing that."

His sudden words catch me off guard and I quickly sneak a glance at him. "What happened last night?"

He looks straight ahead when he answers. "Nothing. I told you. You got piss poor drunk and I had to take you to my place to keep an eye on you."

"You could've driven me back to my place," I mumble, fearing that he took care of me out of obligation.

He looks at me like I've grown another head before turning back to the road. "Are you out of your mind, Bella? You were drunk and if I had left you there, you would've had no one to take care of you."

I watch him with wide eyes as he keeps talking. He must feel my shocked eyes on him because he composes himself and adds, "Besides, your place is across town. I wasn't gonna drive that far that late at night."

For once his indifference doesn't bother me because my mind is reeling from what he said. _He said my name. He called me_ Bella _._

He doesn't speak another word for the rest of the drive, and I'm thankful for it. Having Cullen take care of me or hearing him call me anything other than Swan is something that scares the fuck out of me.

Once I'm home, I call Michael who seems uninterested in my bachelorette party. He acts like the perfect fiancé and says he hopes I had a nice time with my friends before hanging up. For once in my life, I don't like perfection.

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 **~*~*~*The Right Kind of Wrong*~*~*~**

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The following week feels like my personal rendition of hell. I don't know what it is, but everything around me seems to be suffocating me. And everything feels wrong.

The gorgeous pink dress Michael gets me to wear to our rehearsal dinner seems too girly and so not me. The smell of leather jackets and jeans calls to me more.

Michael's perfectly gelled light blond hair looks too light and artificial. Naturally chaotic dark hair sounds more appealing to me.

"Hey, babe, you okay? You need to smile for the picture."

The sound of Michael's voice in my ear brings me out of my turbulent thoughts, and suddenly the blue of his eyes makes me recoil.

"Isabella?" his voice holds question as he looks at me. "This is our rehearsal dinner. You need to smile more."

Closing my eyes, I try to wave off the sudden bout of nausea that hits me. When I open them, I find that the eyes looking back at me are still blue.

 _No, no, no!_ I scream inside my head as I murmur to him, "Excuse me, please."

I slow down enough to hear him laugh casually as he remarks about my pre-wedding jitters while making a dash for the house.

 _What am I doing?_

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 **~*~*~*The Right Kind of Wrong*~*~*~**

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Locking the door behind me, I slide down to the floor, resting my back against the door. I feel like my world is crumbling down around me, and I don't know how to keep myself from drowning.

A knock sounds on the door followed by a whispered request. "Open the door, Swan. It's me."

"What do you want?" I ask, not moving an inch from my spot. "Haven't you had enough, Cullen? Why are you here to torture me?"

His answer is something I never expected to hear him say to me. "I'm here to save you, Bella. I've always been here. Let me in."

That makes my restraint snap, and scrambling up to my feet, I open the door.

He walks inside my room, takes a look at me, and after closing the door behind him, he pulls me into his arms.

And for the first time since that night, I feel like I can breathe again.

He hugs me to his chest and places kisses on the top of my head, continuously whispering that he's got me.

It's only when he kisses a teardrop away from my cheek that I realize that I'm crying. I dash away the tears and look at him. His stormy green eyes, the chaotic mess of bronze hair on top of his head and his favorite black leather jacket screams "bad boy", and I feel drawn to him.

"You're here," I whisper, not believing that I'm standing here, wrapped in the arms of my worst enemy.

He pulls on my chin to make me look at him and allows his hands to cup my face. He strokes my cheekbone with his thumb before whispering back, "I never left."

And suddenly we're fourteen again as I look into the eyes of the boy who has captured my heart. "Edward …" I manage to say his name before he leans down and presses a soft kiss on my lips.

As soon as our lips touch, I feel the pent up energy I've tried to suppress all these years explode inside me. Grabbing the lapels of his jacket, I pull him to me, crashing my lips to his as if he's the last breath of fresh air in my world.

His hands slip from my face and go to my hair, unwinding it from the French-knot I tied it up in, and he tangles his fingers in it. He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me up to meet his lips again and again.

We don't care that there are about a hundred and fifty people in the house celebrating my upcoming nuptials, or that I have a fiancé waiting for me downstairs. No, all we care about is getting lost … in each other.

I feel the door behind my back as he presses me into it, helping me to wrap my legs around his torso. "Fuck!" a curse falls from my lips as I feel him hard against the inside of my thighs.

He bunches up my frilly dress around my waist and allows us to get the much needed friction. He groans as my satin-covered pussy rubs against the rough material of his jeans. "Bella! Fuck, baby, you feel so good."

His words make me wetter. I let out a whimper when he pulls down a cup of my strapless dress to run his lips along the curve of my breast before taking the nipple into his mouth.

I shiver at the sensation of his mouth on me, and he smiles against my skin. "Feel how good we are?" he asks huskily to me, and all I can do in response is nod.

"You're _my_ girl, Bella. No one can make you feel like I do," he says as he rubs against me in just the right way. "Not Newton and definitely not Tyler fucking Crowley."

That shatters through my lust induced haze, and finally I realize what I'm doing—or rather, who I'm doing it with. I quickly let my legs fall from around his hips, and with a hand on his chest, push him away from me. "What the fuck are you playing at, Cullen?"

The shock of my push makes him stumble back, and he closes his eyes, cursing under his breath.

"Why are you here?" I hear myself asking him.

He doesn't look at me as he answers, "Because I'm too fucking tired of staying away." He turns his head to look right into my eyes before saying, "Bella, don't marry him. He doesn't deserve your love."

"What do you know of love?" I snap at him. "All you've ever shown me is hatred. You fucking hate me, Edward."

In a flash, he's standing right in front of me, holding my chin and making me meet his eyes. The intense look in his eyes makes me inhale sharply.

"You don't know anything about what I feel for you, Bella," he tells me with a fierce look on his face. "I may not be the right guy, but don't ever think that I hate you. You're the only woman I've ever loved."

"You're lying," I whisper, not daring to believe that what he's saying may be the truth.

"I'm not."

I feel the hurt from all those years of rude remarks and tongue-lashing hit me as I look into his eyes. "You've always hated me, Edward. That's the truth."

"No!" He shakes his head. "I admit that I acted like an asshole to you, but I never hated you. I tried to, believe me. The moment I caught you kissing Crowley and every time I saw you with any other guy, I wanted to hate you. Instead, I ended up hating myself."

"Why?"

"Because I was a wimp who couldn't find the courage to tell you what you meant to me before everything went to shit."

"But … but you …" I stammer, trying to voice my jumbled thoughts. "You were with Tanya that night," I finish in a whisper.

He starts shaking his head before I can say anything else. "We were playing a video game she got me for my birthday, Bella. Tanya was never anything more than a friend to me."

As soon as the words come out of his mouth, I feel like I can't breathe. "Fuck! It was all on me? I fucked it up? I fucked _us_ up?" I keep on asking again and again, unable to comprehend how much we lost because I acted like a jealous bitch.

He reaches out and places a hand on my cheek. "Shh, love. We both handled the situation in the wrong way. I can't do this anymore. I can't stay away from you anymore."

"You don't have to." I place a hand on his and see his eyes flicker toward my hand. Feeling confused, I pull my hand away and that's when I see it … the thing that made his back stiffen—Michael's ring on my finger.

"I have lousy timing," he mutters.

With a dry smile, I agree, "We both do."

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 **~*~*~*The Right Kind of Wrong*~*~*~**

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When I come back down to the party, everyone seems to be having fun—thanks to my friends who appear to be regaling everyone with stories of my crazy childhood days.

My mom stands beside me and offers me a sad smile. "You're so grown up, baby girl."

"I'll always be your baby girl, Mom," I say to her, giving her a hug. "Rose is making fun of me, isn't she?"

She laughs. "They all love you, Bella. They're just sharing their love for you." We stand in silence for a moment before she speaks again, "You know a lot of those stories involve Edward. You two were so close."

"I know," I reply and decide that it's time to come clean. "Hey, Mom? I'll be right back, ok?" I don't wait for her to reply as I make my way toward Michael.

He sees me just as I'm preparing to call his name. "There you are," he says with a smile and pulls me to his side.

I carefully extract myself from his grip and start talking. "Michael, we need to talk."

He frowns. "About what?"

Taking a deep breath, I pour my heart out to him. "I'm not perfect, Michael. I don't like red roses like you think I do. I love daisies and wildflowers. I don't like pink poof-y dresses. I want to wear jeans. Hell, I don't even like pink because I think I shouldn't be stereotyped to love a color just because I'm a girl."

"What? Isabella, if you don't want to wear this dress …" he starts, but I shake my head to ask him to let me finish first. Thankfully, he listens.

I look into his eyes and whisper, "I don't feel the same draw to blue eyes like I feel for green ones. And even though I know that the green eyes are anything but right, I don't care. I don't want what's right anymore. What's wrong in others' eyes can be very right in mine."

Bringing my hand up in front of us, I continue, "Michael, you are a great guy and an invaluable friend to me, and for that reason, I can't ruin your life. Everyone deserves a chance at finding someone who is exactly right for them … including us." With that, I pull off his ring from my finger and hold it out to him.

His eyes flicker between my face and the ring before he asks, "You're breaking up with me?"

I nod. "I should've had the strength to do this a long time ago. I didn't want to hurt you, but then I realized, I was gonna hurt you worse if we get married. I'm so sorry."

He's silent for a moment, and I hope that he has accepted my reasons, until he lets out an angry curse. "You selfish bitch! You're gonna break up with me the night before our wedding? You're so hell bent on ruining my reputation, aren't you?" He grabs my arm and shakes me roughly, making me cry out in pain.

There's silence around us as our one hundred and fifty guests watch this new version of Michael Newton unfold before their eyes. And then, suddenly, his grip on my arm is gone.

"Take your hands off of her, Newton," Edward's angry voice shatters the silence around us as he pulls Michael away from me. "Don't ever think about hurting her again. Don't touch her. Don't even breathe the same air as her."

I watch in horror as a fight seems to be starting to break out—between the bride's side and the groom's. The sounds of people cursing each other and gathering around Edward and Michael makes me let out a scream.

"Stop it! Just … STOP!" I yell over the chaos. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't do this. I'm sorry …" I feel sobs trying to choke me as I look at the mess I've made and like the coward I am, I run away.

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 **EPOV**

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 _Shit! How did things get so out of hand so fast?_ I wonder as I feel my dad pull on my arm.

"Edward, let go of him," he says in my ear, and that's when I realize that I'm still grasping the lapels of Newton's custom-made suit jacket.

"Dad, he called her names. He hurt her."

Another hand pats my back, and I hear Charlie Swan say, "He'll pay for that and for hurting her, son. Leave that to me." When I look at him, he adds, "I think my Bells needs a friend right now … someone who truly cares for her."

His words make me slacken my grip and with one last look at the Loser Extraordinaire, I head down the way Bella went.

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 **~*~*~*The Right Kind of Wrong*~*~*~**

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This time, when I try her bedroom door, I find it unlocked. Carefully, I peek inside to see a hint of pink at the foot of her bed.

"Bella?" I call her name softly, not sure how she'll take my presence.

She raises her head from where it rests on her knees, and the sight of her tear-stained face breaks my heart.

Wordlessly, I walk inside the room, pull her up and then gather her on my lap as I sit down on her bed. She doesn't resist me. No, in fact, she curls up into a ball and wraps her arms around my neck, hiding her face there as she continues to cry.

I run my hand up and down her back, and it seems to work. Her sobs subside slowly, and she raises her head from my neck. "I'm a horrible person."

"No, Bella, you're not," I say soothingly, hating Newton with a vengeance for making my girl cry.

"Yes, I am," she insists. "I made all the wrong choices. I hurt you, I hurt Michael … fuck! I made a mess of everything."

I take her face in my hands and make her meet my eyes. "Bella Swan, I love you. No matter how horrible you think you are … no matter how wrong you might think you are, I still love you. I've always loved you."

She lets out a strangled sob before brushing her lips on mine. "I might have fucked up a lot of things, but I'm not gonna fuck this up. I love you too, Edward."

And finally, it feels like my world has righted itself.

.

.

.

 **~*~*~*The Right Kind of Wrong*~*~*~**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **One Year, Five Months and Four Days Later**

.

.

.

"Oh shit! Don't stop, please," she cries onto my lips, allowing me to stifle her moan with my mouth.

I move my hips against hers in the way that drives her wild, and push inside her once again. "Don't think I can if I tried, baby."

Her answering giggle to my cocky remark makes me smile against her skin. As I pull her nipple into my mouth, she arches her back.

I feel her pussy pulsate around me and I know … I know that within moments, my beautiful wife will lose herself in me … _completely_.

Reaching down to the place where we're joined, I rub her clit with my thumb and that seems to do the trick. She shatters in ecstasy in my arms, pulling me over the edge as I see the intense look of pleasure on her face.

 _Fuck! She_ _'_ _s beautiful._

She opens her eyes and looks at me, and I feel like I'm falling for her all over again.

She smiles before reaching up to kiss me. "You look happy," she observes.

"I'm fucking ecstatic, baby," I reply with a wide grin.

"And why's that?"

The twinkle in her eyes makes me suspect that she knows why that is, but I answer her just the same. "Because you're Bella Cullen now, my wife."

She hums and lays her head on my chest. "I can't believe we're married," she whispers to me. "I can't believe I'm married to Edward Cullen. I made so many wrong decisions …"

I quickly shut her up with a kiss and then I say, "We both made wrong choices, love, but in the end, everything turned out to be perfect."

"Do you remember telling me that 'right doesn't always mean good'?" she asks me abruptly.

"Yeah," I answer slowly, wondering where she's going with this.

With a smile, she straddles my hips, making me smile back. "Right might not mean good, but our wrong choices resulted in something _amazing_."

And that's when I know it. There will be no ending to my falling for this girl ... ever.

 **A/N: So ... thoughts?**

 **Good? Bad? Nothing?**

 **Share them with me and leave a review.**

 **Important: I'm taking part in NaNoWriMo this year, which means, very tight writing schedule to keep up with. So even though I'll try to get at least one RoALS update to you guys, I can't promise anything during the month of November. Wish me luck. Feel free to PM me if you want to. :)**

 **Also, in a different, totally unexpected and mind-blowing news, my fics have been nominated for 65 awards in 17 categories in the TwiFic Fandom Awards. Here's the link for the list of nominations. Check it out and vote for your favorite writers. Voting goes live today. I have no idea who nominated me, but whoever you are, thank you. I love you, guys. :)**

 **twificfandomawards . blogspot p / 2015- nominees -by- nominee .html (Remove the spaces before you hit enter.)**

 **Thanks for reading.**

 **Stay tuned for the epilogue for Deathly Rising tonight.**

 **See you in December.**

 **Take care.**

 **Ann**


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